To Win a Heart
by Igwash
Summary: AU-fic. Arthur sets out, with a team, to save a magic maiden and win her heart. But what will he do if the maiden is not actually a woman? GilArt/PrUK, Yaoi, Smut, etc. Rating subject to bump up to M in later chapters.


**Title- **To Win a Heart

**Pairing**- Arthur x Gilbert (England x Prussia)

**Rated**- M

**Disclaimer**- I do not own any characters. All characters belong to Hetalia. Only the story line is mine ^.^

**Warnings**- Boy x boy (yaoi); Smut; Colorful Language; AU; yadda yadda...

**A/N-**_Hello everyone! I've been so addicted to the Hetalia fandom lately, but then I realized I had never written a fanfic for it so here's one. I got the idea when I was watching BBC Merlin, but it has nothing to do with that. I just like the idea of castles and such. Sorry for anyone reading my DRRR fics cause I haven't been updating those lately, but I'll get to them soon. Also, I'm aware GilArt isn't a common pairing, but I didn't want to do the usual USUK or FrUK, and I think Gil and Artie would be adorable together, so here they are for anyone interested in this pairing! _

**Notes -** _This fic is AU. It does not have a specific time period, so you might find a lot of things odd. It is also filled with anachronisms, especially the time period and the language. There are no countries, all countries have become kingdoms instead. Cities are towns and towns are villages. There is a war going on, but the ways of the alliances and the actual time periods of the wars are in a jumble, so it doesn't have any connection to RL except that it is similar to WW2. No, the war isn't that important, the maiden is. Also, Gilbert doesn't make his appearance yet, but he will eventually. This is rated M, but it doesn't apply just yet. Now that's over, let's get on to the story..._

_**Enjoy~**_

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Arthur Kirkland always thought himself to be a sensible young man, growing into adulthood with a clear, concise conscious, a breath-taking sharp mind, and a gentleman's attitude. He always thought himself to keep a calm demeanor when faced with petty people, comparing them to how far up the metre they were compared to his own brothers and usually not finding them worth the effort. He could reason any day that out of a group of people - mainly his colleagues - he was the most sensible one at all times. He was the responsible one. Nobody could get under his nerves or fray his perfectly adept approach when faced with a situation.

And - despite most people disagreeing - he had a cool temperament. At least, when things were running smoothly and according to plans he had thought up beforehand. And it's not like Arthur was the type to get angry at anything and everything. He didn't have OCD set on making sure that things were organized and everything spic-and-span. He was actually quite open to new experiences and - mostly - accepted intrusions into his everyday routines.

Take Alfred F. Jones, for example. Somehow, the two had become close friends despite their very different natures. Arthur had taken care of the teenager since they were children, acting as a doting older brother regardless of them not being siblings. He also tried to be a role model, but that attempt went down the drain almost immediately after Alfred began to rebel and tried to gain "independence", even though Arthur wasn't his guardian. Alfred was a spontaneous male with a hero complex, insisting on adventures that made Arthur feel old and weary in the end. And, albeit Alfred's impulsiveness, Arthur was still always able to stay serene. Well, normally. Okay, just sometimes, but Alfred was another matter altogether, so who's asking you?

Then there was Francis Bonnefoy. Francis was a groping, lusting, hormonal aspect of the male species that most people found themselves being drawn to. But not Arthur. Oh no, never Arthur. He knew Francis' questionable nature, ignored his charm, and always told him off for it. And for being born French. 'Cause when you put a Frenchman and Francis together, it **always **became a frog. A pervy, slimy, impious frog. So, as a sensible and mature adult, Arthur constantly fought the Frenchman at every advantageous moment. All for the sake of innocent minds. And because he was English, and the French and English were never meant to get along. But that's beside the point. The _point_ is that Arthur could keep a cool facade going, even in the face of a pervert like Francis, and only ever lost control of his temper when he was doing the world a favour. Which was most of the time.

And of course, there was the ever-creepy Ivan Braginsky. Ivan was a large, pale man with an ever-present childish smile adorning his small mouth. Creepy. Ivan had purple eyes. Creepy. He carried around a **faucet pipe **under his long coat. Creepy. Hell, let's throw his long coat into the description as well. Creepy. And who could forget the scarf around his neck that he never took off. Fucking creepy. And... Well, you get the point. Ivan Braginsky was one hell of a creepy guy, and Arthur had a strong dislike towards the guy. Especially since he poked fun at Arthur's belief in magic. And his height. But still, Arthur never actually lost his temper around the guy - he was too scared to even try to pick a fight with him - and they rarely ever talked to one another. He didn't actually know why he hung out with a creep like him, but Alfred seemed to have a hate/love relationship with the oaf, and Matthew actually enjoyed Ivan's company.

That leads us to Matthew Williams. Matthew was the younger twin brother of Alfred, and the two looked unnervingly identical. But their personalities were the complete... opposite. Where Alfred always stood out because of his loud and brash personality, Matthew tended to be invisible with his soft-spoken words and his easily forgettable individuality. He also had a sad lack of distinct traits. Arthur guessed it was because he had lived with Alfred for his whole life, and people tended to ignore him in favour of the louder twin. Arthur himself had fallen victim one too many a time by Matthew's invisibility, even going so far as forgetting him when he was standing right beside him. But after remembering that he was there, Arthur found himself losing to boundless amounts of shame and regret, but Matthew was also kind-hearted and took it into stride, forgiving the older male immediately. Matthew was one of the few people Arthur actually liked and never minded showing it - as long as he remembered the other male's existence, of course.

And lastly, there was Yao Wang. A short, calm, Chinese man that looked younger then he was, Yao was a man Arthur enjoyed calling his friend. In spite of the many times Arthur had used the older man in the past for his own benefit, Yao had stayed a friend. Arthur had been prone to going through a rebellious phase himself when he was younger - Francis occasionally still called him a delinquent - and had been extremely unfriendly. But now time had caught up to him, and he changed his lifestyle drastically, pursuing the life of a gentleman instead. Yao accepted this change and, in doing so, remained his close friend. Arthur never got extremely angry at the older man, and he never hated him. He found the Chinese man's personality soothing after having to spend most of his life with people who got on his nerves.

So when Arthur found himself in a busy pub with all five of them, he was actually pretty surprised. After all, the five of them weren't exactly the closest of friends, and they rarely ever hung out with all of them present. But the situation they found themselves in at the moment seemed to warrant a night full of surprises. At least for Arthur, his life was suddenly going to take a drastic turn, and tonight was one of many beginnings.

Finding himself in a bar was a normal occurrence. Arthur liked to drink for any matter he could find acceptable, from toasts for celebrations and victories to drinking because he had beat the Frenchman at a word-duel. He, sadly, had a very low tolerance for alcohol as well, which had him in a depressed state more often than not, spilling out all his woes for any living being that was within the vicinity. For Arthur, this included magical beings that he had the privilege of being able to see, though nobody else ever believed him.

Alfred and Matthew had been the two that had accompanied him to the pub in the first place. They had just returned from North America for a visit to see their cousin again. Arthur was their relative from their father's side of the family, and they had spent their earlier years following him around in Europe. Now, they were finally meeting each other after four years, and Arthur had decided that the two boys were old enough to go out for a couple of drinks, especially since they weren't at the legal age of drinking in their respective kingdoms.

When they had come into the pub, the first person they saw was Yao, who Arthur greeted warmly. Alfred had suggested that Yao join them, and Yao agreed, informing that he was going to be meeting up with someone soon. They had hit it off just fine, and Arthur had only drunk one beer, not even feeling the buzz yet. Everything was going smoothly, and the Brit found himself acting the role of an ideal English gentleman, not even losing his temper when Alfred had poked fun at his eyebrows.

But then Francis had arrived.

At first, Arthur hadn't even noticed the Frenchman until the distinct scent of primroses wafted to his nose. He crinkled it in distaste, glancing around shrewdly so as not to elevate suspicion or ruin the fine mood. But his discretion was in vain when the embodiment of his frustration sauntered right up to them.

"Ah, well, if it isn't the delinquent. I recognized your horrid eyebrows from a mile away," the Frenchman stated with a flourish, complete with the flick of his hair and a wink thrown at the group.

Arthur frowned, his eyebrows scrunching up in revulsion. "Shut up, Frog. I'm too busy tonight to fall prey to your folly."

Francis cast a glance at the men around the table and cocked his head to the side as he tried to remember who they were. When he did, he snapped his fingers and laughed languidly, easing himself into a chair at the table.

"Oh, you're this foul mouth's cousins, correct? Let's see if I remember correctly. Alfred and Mathieu! Ah, and Yao, it's a pleasure to be graced with your beauty once more."

Matthew blushed when he realised that someone actually remembered his name, but Alfred had the same reaction as Arthur towards the Frenchman's presence. He turned his nose up in the air before waving the leering man away from his younger twin brother.

"And you're the pervert. Great, Artie, why'd we have to see this guy in our first week back in London?"

Arthur opened his mouth to make a retort that it was clearly NOT his intention to see the man either, but he was interrupted by something distinctly _eerie _poking up from the side of his table in between himself and his cousin. A shiver went down his spine and his hands instinctively curled around his table knife, ready to thrust it into the intruder should they make any sudden movements. He stayed calm and collected, ready for battle through years of experience training and fighting for his district and kingdom.

But his cousin was a completely different matter altogether. Alfred literally shrieked as he realized there was another being at the table, right about the same time Arthur did. He whipped around, standing up and knocking his chair over in the process. Luckily, or probably unluckily, the chair toppled over and hit the stranger.

The pub went deadly silent as people began to feel the ominous aura take over the previously cozy atmosphere. Heads turned, voices hushed, and eyes widened as they saw a grown man calmly get out from under a table where there were five men sitting. Alfred, upon recognizing the man, instantly calmed down and glared at the intruder.

"What are you doing here, Commie-bastard?"

Alfred picked his chair back up, never once taking his eyes off of the newcomer as he sat down. Arthur had similar feelings of distaste towards the man, and his hands tightened into fists as the man sat down on their table, in-between Matthew and Yao. The man turned a cheerfully small, childish, and fake smile in Arthur's direction before answering Alfred's question.

"_Kolkolkol_, I was invited by Yao, _da_? And this is a public place: I am allowed here just like you. I did not know you two were back in Europe though." He turned and smiled at Matthew. "And hello Comrade Matvey. You've grown your hair!"

Matthew grinned back at the Russian, feeling calmer now that he had a friend within their group who he could actually communicate with without freaking out.

"You too, Ivan. I didn't realize you'd recognize me. It has been four years, after all." Matthew picked up his pint of beer and took a small sip. Arthur shuddered as he remembered that the two were close before the twins went back to North America. He never did understand how such a quiet and kind person could be in sync with a creepy maniac, but he never reprimanded his younger cousin because he knew how rare it was that Matthew actually made friends. But he never did approve of the boy being around the Russian too long, afraid he would be influenced or hurt.

As was common, Alfred was on the same train of thought as Arthur. He frowned as he watched the exchange and reached out to pull his brother closer to himself, but was stopped by a kick to the shin from under the table. He instantly glared at Ivan, but realized that the one responsible was his brother, as Matthew hid a smirk behind his hand.

"Of course I would recognize you. How could I not? You're very admirable, Comrade. I have not ever seen someone as _meek _as you have so much strength. Quite commendable. You are strong, cam speak fluently in several languages, and are very head-fast. I believe you are the only one who has argued constantly with my ways without giving in, as well as sometimes winning."

Matthew blinked, then frowned. "Meek? Ah, Ivan, I believe it would be wise to warn you beforehand, but I am not meek. Nor will I allow you to say that to me. I have grown over the last four years, and am not the same child I once was." His voice was a whisper, as it always was, but the threat was laced with admonition.

Alfred's mouth widened into a proud smile for his brother standing up to others. Arthur blinked in shock at the change in his cousin's attitude, mentally sputtering. He knew his cousins were likely to change after being gone for so long, but he hadn't actually anticipated it to be true. His thought reeled to Alfred, the boy he had taken care of, and he realized that Alfred had probably changed as well. The boy had already gone through his main stages of adolescence and teenage years, and it was due time that he had turned into a man.

"Hahaha, in your face loser!" Alfred turned to Ivan and stuck his tongue out.

... or not. Arthur sighed as he decided that he didn't like the atmosphere the table had taken. All he wanted was a pleasant night out with his two cousins, and probably get drunk out of his mind. It wasn't going to happen if there were disagreements going on, as well as a perverted frog touching...

Wait, was he actually groping him?

Arthur felt his eyebrow twitch as he turned piercing green eyes towards the offender. Francis was smiling lightly as he watched Matthew talk with Ivan and, now, Yao as well. Arthur realized that Francis probably didn't even realize where his own hand was, but Arthur wasn't planning on being kind and lenient enough to allow this harassment to continue.

Tightening his hand around his fork, he waited until he knew no one was looking towards him before he spun around, fork in hand, and stabbed the hand touching him. Francis let out a shriek and all heads at the table turned to them. When people realized who it was that shrieked and who stabbed, they went back to their conversation as if nothing had happened. After all, Francis and Arthur getting into a brawl was an unnervingly commonplace.

Francis turned to Arthur hissing, "Why did you do that?"

"Maybe because you don't have any self-restraint and can't keep your hands to yourself." Arthur hissed back. The two began to glare daggers at each other, only to lose focus when the bar's heavy wooden door was flung open.

The entire pub quieted as everyone looked towards the now-open entrance of the bar. Standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face was a man that Arthur knew all too well, and he was not in the least happy about it. The man stepped in, followed by an entourage of men. All of them were holding a weapon of some kind, but that was the usual humdrum of their kingdom. What wasn't was the type of weaponry the men held.

The man in the front, clearly the leader, held a large battle axe over his shoulder. He had two long blades on either hip as well, but they looked far less used than the axe. His hair was dark brown and his eyes flashed a deep green. His attire also stood out from the people in the pub. His clothes were that of South Europe, easily distinguishable in the - mainly English - London pub. His eyes roamed over the crowd before settling on the group of five men crowded around a small table. His attention was immediately drawn to another set of green eyes, like emerald, and he made his way forward.

Arthur frowned as he saw the object of his distaste make his way towards him. One word to describe the duo, when faced with one another, was _competitive_**. **When the man reached the table, he swung the axe down and fixed one arm on top of it, reaching the other out towards the British man.

"_Hola_, Kirkland." He grinned, pushing his outstretched arm closer as an indication to have it shook.

Arthur sighed, but his expression soon turned into a grin as well. If this man was here, it could only mean one thing: there was a contest to be held. And Arthur loved beating his opponents.

He reached out his own arms and took the man's hand in his. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. What brings the likes of trash such as yourself here?"

Antonio straightened, retracting his hand and wiping it on his sleeve. "I trust you've heard the rumor of the castle they found in the middle of East and West Europe?" At Arthur's nod, he continued. "Well, rumor in the South is that there is a fair maiden to be found in the dungeon. She has powers unlike any other, and her spouse, one of her own choice, would be able to inherit some of these abilities, as well as have complete control of the maiden. She is also told to be ageless once she has found a partner, and he shall also have the merit of living years longer than any other man. I believe they would be able to age three times less than a man of the norm."

Arthur's eyes flashed, and the other's eyes at the table met in brief understanding. Arthur would not give up a treasure as rare as this one. Arthur smiled as he made a motion with his hand for the Spaniard to sit as well. He spoke once Antonio was seated.

"You said she must choose the spouse of her own volition. So pray tell, what exactly is the competition?"

Antonio bent forward so no one else in the pub, save their own table, could hear him. "It is for who can win the maiden's heart. I heard she would gladly give it up for anyone that breaks her out of the dungeon. But that is not the hard part, of course. It is the West. Men from my kingdom have gone to find her, but there are higher-ups from other kingdoms, such as Germany and Italy, that are protecting the castle. With tension already high between the Kingdoms of the West and East, it may cause greater battles if there is conflict at the castle."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "But that is preposterous. We just finished a tiring war not a dozen years ago. No one would foolhardily risk another one with supplies and stock so low."

The others at the table were now all joined in listening. News always had traveled faster in the south.

Francis looked over at Arthur with a grim expression unbefitting his flamboyant personality. "Ah, my dear, that is what you believe for now. But it is not so. Germany has been rising in power while we rest. They have taken the kingdoms of Austria and Hungary, and I heard the leader's main advisor, and an important general, is something close to a genius in terms of battle strategy and the like. Also, after their alliance with the northern Kingdom of Italy, they have been able to get weaponry that they used to lack due to their defeat in the last Great War. Not to mention, their pact with Japan of the East has been solidified."

Alfred looked surprised. "They've grown more than I thought they would. Is this the beginnings of another Great War?"

"Probably."

"Hey, hey now." Antonio suddenly said, his hands up to pacify the sudden dreaded air the table had taken."I didn't come here to talk about wars taking place."

Arthur frowned at him. "That's only because the Spanish are barely over their long period of civil conflict."

"Okay, I don't really care about that right now, but it is still related. The reason I'm here is to propose a competition for who can get the maiden in the castle. With so much power in their hands, the Axis will probably be left undefeated. We don't even know a quarter of the powers she is said to possess, but it could most likely benefit a kingdom is need be. I am taking a group with me on the journey. I advise you to do the same. After all, there will be a lot of obstacles to face along the way..."

As Antonio went on to explain all the details he knew of the castle (so they could be at a fair advantage when they started), Arthur listened intently. He was already wondering on whom he should take, but he supposed the men around the table would be part of his group, whether he liked it or not. If he hadn't known Antonio for so many years, he'd have assumed he was lying on a lot of the information he was giving, but Antonio also liked to keep the code of a knight, to be honest and fair.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was a man Arthur had met when he was a child. When the kingdoms in Europe were at peace for a short while, his father had taken his brothers and him to the south to trade and gain a larger, worldly knowledge. He had already met Francis by then, their families had a long history together, and Francis had been the one to introduce Antonio. Arthur had a harsh childhood where he grew up looking out for only himself, so when he met the happy-go-lucky Spaniard, he had immediately disliked him. It seemed so unfair that he had turned out with such a horrible attitude and Antonio would only laugh off his own hard past. After meeting, more often than not, in tournaments and the like held in kingdoms around Europe, they had both grown to not liking one another. They would always fight to see who was the better warrior, who had more wealth, or who could keep more allies than enemies.

So when Antonio had come that day with the proposal of going to the castle's dungeon, Arthur was already up to it. Little did he know that this common competition between them would be far less ordinary than he had ever known. Because he was used to winning battles, but winning a maiden's heart was something he had little experience in. But all Arthur could feel when Antonio had said his goodbye's was the drive in his blood, one he hadn't felt for quite a long time, that was telling him to **win.**

After all, there was no way he would lose to anyone.

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